


Electric Love

by Evoxine



Series: CEO!Arc [3]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Feelings Realization, M/M, ceo!au, someone gets salty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 03:47:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11751387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evoxine/pseuds/Evoxine
Summary: Before anything can happen between two people, they have to meet first.





	Electric Love

**Author's Note:**

> Prequel to Daylight Robbery.

The first time Sehun saw Jongin, he was left breathless. Quite literally.

It’s the first day of his newly appointed job as CEO of Oh Corporations, and Sehun is running late. His father is going to be livid, and Sehun cringes mentally just thinking of all the possible things his father could say in front of his former colleagues and current employees. He has ten minutes to make it to the office, and with every passing second, the likelihood of him making it drops tenfold.

He doesn’t want to run, because he’s wearing a brand new suit and it’s sunny out. Running would involve sweating, and that’s something else he doesn’t want to happen on his first day. But he _is_ running horribly late, so he picks up his pace as he turns a corner from the multi-level carpark that all the businesses in the block share. He’s only just made the turn when he crashes into someone, his chest smacking solidly into the other’s.

Stumbling backwards a few steps, Sehun attempts to hold onto his briefcase, catch his breath, and keep his balance at the same time. A hand reaches out to close around his forearm, steadying him.

“You alright there?” A deep voice asks, and Sehun glances up to catch sight of a pair of equally deep eyes.

“I’m fine, thanks – are you alright? Sorry for running into you, I was –”

“Don’t worry about it,” comes the reply. “It’s happened to me before. No harm done. Have a good day.”

Sehun watches him walk away; his daze is broken when his phone starts vibrating violently in his pocket.

“ _Shit_ ,” Sehun mutters, and sprints down the antiquely paved pathway towards his office buildings.

 

 

 

  
It’s late when Sehun finally decides to head home – he’d managed to avoid leaving together with his father. Suffice to say, his father was not pleased whatsoever when he ended up rushing into the conference room ten minutes late earlier that day.

“Good night,” Sehun says, inclining his head towards his new secretary, Yunji.

“Good night, Mr. Oh,” she replies, smiling. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow,” Sehun says, and steps out into the elevator lobby.

Too busy adjusting his suit jacket on his arm, Sehun doesn’t notice someone walking in his direction until he nearly walks into said person.

“You again?” There’s no malice in the tone, just a hint of laughter.

Sehun, surprised, looks up and finds himself face to face with the stranger he’d walked into this morning.

“Sorry!” Sehun exclaims, appalled, “I’m not watching where I’m going.” Sighing, he pushes a chunk of hair out of his eyes. “It’s been a stressful day.”

“Oh?”

Jerking a thumb over his shoulder towards his company, Sehun makes a face and says, “I had my first day of work after a change in position today. Came in late. Not a great impression.”

“You work in Oh Corporations?” Curiosity tinges the stranger’s voice.

“Yeah,” Sehun says, shifting his weight onto his other foot. “I’m uh, the new CEO.”

“You’re Oh Sehun? You look different from the pictures I've seen. A good different, don't worry.”

Sehun tilts his head; so the guy’s a businessman. He notices the look in Sehun’s eyes and smiles.

“I’m Kim Jongin. CEO of Kim Enterprises. I’ve heard a lot about you; a business prodigy who helped build his father’s shaky business to the booming one that it is today, am I right? Congrats on the promotion, and it’s nice to finally meet you.”

A hand is proffered, and Sehun takes it with grace.

 

 

 

  
Deciding to take a break, Sehun lifts his nose out of a huge stack of paperwork and leans back in his chair, wincing as he feels his vertebrae crack with the stretch of his spine. Spinning around, Sehun gazes out the window absently until his eyes land on the building diagonally across the street from his. Sitting up in his seat, Sehun stares at the simplistic, black lettering that makes up the sign of Kim Enterprises. He’s never really paid much attention to the neighbouring firms, partly because it wasn’t part of his job description and partly because he’d always be flooded with work to have the time to do so. He knows of Kim Enterprises, of course, knows about each and every one of the companies in the central business district. But he’s really never given much thought about them; until Kim Jongin bumped into his life.

Ever since their unexpected meeting, Jongin’s been floating in and out of Sehun’s mind. The man’s barely older than Sehun, but he seems to be utterly comfortable in the corporate world. How long has he been CEO of his company? Why does Sehun not _know_ about him?

His thoughts are promptly interrupted when a soft knock sounds on his door and Yunji pokes her head around the frame.

“Mr. Oh, I have someone here to see you.”

“Who is it?”

“A Kim Jongin,” she says, briefly glancing down at her logbook. Sehun blinks and sits up a little straighter.

“Alright; send him in please.”

Nodding, Yunji retracts her body from the office and closes the door. Sehun can just make out the muffled sound of voices and soft footsteps before his door swings open again.

“Hello, Mr. Oh,” Jongin says, stepping into room with the confidence of a man who is worth millions of dollars. “Are you busy right now?”

Sehun carefully closes his jaw and glances down at the small pile of papers by the side of his computer.

“Not horribly,” he replies, letting the pen in his grip tumble onto the desk.

“Great,” Jongin exclaims, sliding a hand into a pocket. Sehun notes that his suit cinches perfectly around his waist. “Let me take you to lunch.”

 

 

 

  
The restaurant’s sleek and classy, but the ambience is relaxed enough to put Sehun at ease. Jongin orders for the both of them without a single look at the menu, and Sehun thinks that he should come to expect that from most, if not all, of the businessmen he’ll be dealing with in the future.

“So,” Jongin starts, smoothing a hand down his tie and running the thumb of his other hand down the stem of his champagne flute. “How long have you been in the business?”

“I’ve always been on the sidelines,” Sehun replies. “I was never officially an employee of my dad’s before he signed me on as CEO. But I knew every intricate detail of how the company functioned – the books, the people, the goals. Natural knack for it, I guess. Never really thought about doing anything else.”

Jongin nods, but his words are cut off when the server returns with appetizers. A plate of grilled octopus with chickpea and chorizo salad appears in front of Sehun’s eyes and he just knows that anything Jongin orders will be exquisite.

“You’ve been the talk of the business world for a while now,” Jongin says, popping a scallop into his mouth. A few purposeful chews and a swallow later, he continues. “The last few clients your company’s drawn in have all been your ideas, have they not? There are _many_ tycoons who are impressed, and likely more than a little intimidated.”

“Why did you bring me out for lunch, Jongin?”

A faint smile cracks across Jongin’s lips, but he doesn’t answer until he swills down a sip of champagne.

“You fascinate me. I myself have gotten into the industry at a young age, but I had to learn the ropes the hard way. Despite what some people claim or think, my abilities are nothing natural. Countless sleepless nights and an insanely high amount of caffeine contributed to the development of said abilities. Yes, I’m good at what I do, but before that, I was good at _getting good_ at what I do. You, on the other hand…” Jongin waves his fork lightly, apparently confident enough that Sehun will understand where he’s going with his words.

“You asked me out to lunch because I’m… unusual?”

“I wouldn’t use that word,” Jongin comments, leaning back to let the server clear his plate, “but yes. Essentially. I enjoy being around uniqueness. And besides, you’re not hard on the eyes – I enjoy being around attractiveness, too.”

Sehun coughs and redirects his attention back to his meal.

 

 

 

  
It’s a good month later when Sehun next sees Jongin. The last time they were together, Jongin had dropped Sehun off at the doors of his building with an enigmatic smile and a soft “I’ll see you around”. After that, Sehun had gone back to his office in a slight daze – it had taken him a little longer to read through all the paperwork he had than it would’ve under any other circumstance. The next few weeks were packed with gearing up for the launch of a new project, and it’s only now as things are beginning to wind down does Sehun have time to think about anything outside of work. And it just so happens that Jongin chooses that time to reappear – with an invitation.

“There’s a charity event next weekend,” Jongin says, getting straight to the point, and Sehun hears his voice before he sees him. Pausing in his tracks, Sehun looks around him and spies Jongin leaning against the wall of his building. It’s late, and there aren’t many people milling about in the square. The young businessman sticks out like a sore thumb, grey suit perfectly pressed and hair still impeccably styled.

“What?” Sehun says, a little caught off guard. “Charity event?”

“Yes,” Jongin confirms. “Invite-only. Would you like to come?”

“Oh,” Sehun utters, “okay. Yes, sure. It’d be my pleasure.”

“Great,” Jongin says, pushing off the wall. “I’ll send details to your secretary. See you there.”

With that, Jongin turns and strides down the street. Shaking his head, Sehun turns towards the other direction and heads for his car. It’s been a long day – he needs a good night’s sleep.

But as it turns out, Sehun finds himself lying awake in his bed, thoughts of _what should I wear_ and _should I get a haircut_ floating in and out of his mind at the speed of light. Grumbling, he rolls onto his side and squeezes his eyes shut. _It’s just a charity event, damnit, go and save some trees and children in need_. That’s _what you should be worried about_ , he tells himself, _not what you look like._

With that, Sehun resolutely refuses to open his eyes once more. He falls asleep after a painfully long twenty-two minutes later.

 

 

 

  
Sunday rolls around like a polished ring of silver, all smooth and silent and unexpected – it hits Sehun square in the face when he wakes up to his phone blaring an alarm. The text across the screen warns him that he’s got just under six hours to prepare for the event. He usually takes a reasonable forty-five minutes for an event like this, but he had a gut feeling last night that he’d need a little more time today.

Rolling out of bed, Sehun ventures into the bathroom and breezes through his normal morning (afternoon, in this case) routine. Breath minty fresh and bladder empty, he heads into his kitchen and pours himself a hearty glass of full-fat chocolate milk. The skies are clear out, he notes, silhouette framed neatly in the centre of a wall-length window. It’s only when he’s almost done with his daily glass of milk does he realise that he’s at an absolute loss of what to wear and how to look.

In the past, going to white tie events was a relatively easy process when it came to dressing for the night; he was always pulled along by his father, and there was never anyone he’d wanted to impress. Throw on a suit, a nice tie, slap on some cologne, and dab a little concealer under the eyes. Tonight’s a completely different situation – he’s there as CEO of his own company, and there under Jongin’s invite.

There’s only one thing to do.

“Zitao? I need help.”

Twenty minutes later, Sehun’s front door swings open and his close friend of three years strolls in, keys in hand and another person following him, hot on his heels.

“Hello,” the stranger says, big eyes twinkling. “Mr. Oh, yes? Nice to meet you!”

“Hi?” Sehun feels oddly self-conscious in his flannel pyjama pants and overworn tee. Those are some expensive jeans Zitao’s companion has on.

Zitao shrugs off a very expensive looking cashmere coat and turns to Sehun.

“This is Luhan. A business partner. I’m looking to open a flagship store in Beijing, and he is the key to that turning out successfully. But enough with business talk – you need help?”

 

 

 

 

“First things first,” Zitao begins, “you need a bath.”

“A _bath_ , bath?”

Zitao simply grunts, head tucked in a cupboard. Sehun watches from the doorway of his bathroom, Luhan mildly curious by his side.

“I don’t suppose you see a lot of business partners doing stuff like this,” Sehun says, gesturing to Zitao’s back. Luhan grins and shakes his head.

“You’re right, I rarely do. But it’s quite entertaining; I don’t mind it in the slightest.”

“Strip,” Zitao orders, dropping a rather large bath bomb (where did he get that?) into the tub. Something that looks vaguely like a large, dried block of tofu is clutched in Zitao’s other hand. Sehun makes a face but does as he’s told, stepping gingerly into the fizzing water after dropping his pyjamas on the countertop.

“Alright,” Zitao continues, pushing up his sleeves. “Time to scrub.”

“What –”

“Scrubbing time,” Zitao repeats firmly, raising his tofu brick. Sehun doesn’t know where Zitao found that either.

“Circular motions,” Luhan chimes in. Sehun sighs.

A good ten minutes later, Sehun finds himself hunched over his knees as Zitao scrubs at his back. Zitao himself is deep in conversation with Luhan, and all Sehun registers as he attempts to tune out of the chatter is how cheerily talkative Luhan seems to be – a refreshing difference from many businessmen he’s encountered. Soap suds are soft against his skin as the water sloshes back and forth gently with every move of Zitao’s sponge, and Sehun figures this situation could be a lot stranger.

He’s rinsing bubbles off himself another ten minutes later – Sehun tries to ignore patches of pinked skin as he does so. Zitao tosses him a towel and Sehun sheaths himself in it as he pads into his bedroom. Luhan’s standing in the doorway of the walk-in, and the slight purse of his lips gets Sehun slightly worried.

“Is something… wrong?”

“Do you have suits that _aren’t_ black?”

Zitao snorts from where he’s pulling out a pile of dress shirts and jabs to a section of the closet. “They’re there. He has some, just not enough.”

Luhan thumbs through the hangers before stopping and pointing to one. “Navy blue.”

“Just what I was thinking,” Zitao crows, and Sehun blinks.

 

 

 

  
It takes Zitao half an hour to be satisfied with the combination of shirt, suit, and shoes that ends up on Sehun’s body, even with the help of a rather enthusiastic Luhan. But there’s the big issue of the tie, and Sehun dreads repeating the process of ‘putting something on only to have it take it off right after’ for another half hour.

Thankfully, Luhan comes to the rescue with just one tie in his hands and a story on his lips that Sehun listens to as he loops the tie around his neck. Zitao hems and haws over the tie but Luhan ends up convincing him to keep it on, sending Sehun a wink as he does so. Sehun makes a mental note to send Luhan a huge gift basket.

“Sit here and sit still,” Zitao orders, forcing Sehun down onto a chair in front of his bathroom mirror. Sehun knows he’s got more makeup products than he probably needs, but the bag Zitao brings in from the living room reassures him that the amount he has could be a lot more (a.k.a. worse).

“Applying makeup is an art,” Zitao begins, pulling out compacts and foundation bottles along with a roll of brushes. “Now that you’re running a company, you’ll be attending more and more formal events, and I won’t be around to help you look your best for all of them. Watch and learn, grasshopper.”

“Grass –”

“Shut up,” Zitao interrupts politely, and waits for Sehun to close his mouth before squeezing out a dollop of foundation onto the back of his hand.

 

 

 

  
“And there you go! All done,” Zitao declares proudly, pulling away from Sehun’s face and standing up. Sehun hears the faint cracking of Zitao’s spine, but it doesn’t seem as if Zitao’s felt it – he’s much too satisfied with his work.

But as Sehun peers at himself in the mirror, he has to admit that Zitao’s done an amazing job. There are layers upon layers of stuff on his skin, but it doesn’t feel nor look so. His eyebrows are impeccably shaped, and hey, his eyes look stunning, if he can say so himself. There’s a thin layer of something balmy on his lips that taste like peppermint, which Sehun considers a bonus in addition to the fact that it brings in some colour to his otherwise muted-in-colour lips. His cheekbones stand out a lot more, and the sharpness of his forehead’s drawn back.

“You are a god,” Sehun mumbles, tilting his chin to the side for further inspection.

“I know,” Zitao replies, “but sit down. We’re not done yet. You have a lot of hair and we need to figure out what to do with it.”

“Can’t I just –”

“No, you’re not going to just _push it back_ ,” Zitao says forcefully. “You’re no longer just your dad’s son, okay?”

Zitao produces an electric hair razor and Sehun blanches. Luhan leans forward from his perch on Sehun’s sink with blatant interest.

 

 

 

  
“Isn’t this pushed back anyways,” Sehun grumbles as Zitao runs gelled fingers through the subtle coif.

“But it’s on a different spectrum than what you would’ve done,” Zitao points out. “And you wouldn’t have these without me. You have to admit, they make the look.” Zitao points to the newly shaved down sides of Sehun’s hair and Sehun looks at his friend balefully.

“Are we done? I have to pick Yunji up and she lives on what is pretty much the other side of town and I –”

“You’re welcome,” Zitao says gracefully, unplugging his electric razor and packing everything away.

“Thank you,” Sehun says emphatically, “for all you’ve done. I look amazing thanks to you. 100% you. Despite the fact that Luhan helped.”

Zitao rolls his eyes but Sehun knows he’s pleased.

“Yes, we’re done. Don’t forget a spritz of cologne before you go. I’ll lock up when I leave. I'll be flying off to Beijing the next few days, so I'll be busy for a bit – I'll call you when I have time, and you can fill me in on the event. Have fun!”

Sehun does as he’s told, stopping to pick up his phone and to slide his wallet and keys into his pocket before dashing out the door. With a big wave to the two, Sehun exits his home feeling like a million bucks. Not that he’ll admit it to Zitao.

It’s not until he’s nearing the venue with Yunji talking away on her phone next to him, does he feel the nerves creeping up. The car pulls up to the lobby smoothly, and Sehun allows the bellhop to open his door for him. Then, taking a deep breath, Sehun steps out and walks into the building with his back straight, gaze strong, and Yunji a little off to his side.

Yunji brushes off a speck of something from his shoulder inside the elevator, and Sehun thanks her with a look. She seems... proud, for some reason, like a mother sending her son off for his first day of school.

“You look great – you’ll do fine today!”

“Are my nerves that obvious,” Sehun mutters, tugging on his tie as he stares at the closed doors. Yunji simply chuckles.

Yunji nudges Sehun over to the donation table the second the doors slide over, and they’re bent over a cheque when Sehun feels someone tap him on the shoulder. Granting Yunji permission to sign off on the cheque, Sehun turns and sees a smiling Jongin standing mere inches away from him.

“You’re here,” Jongin says pleasantly, a glass of what looks like scotch in his hands.

“Of course,” Sehun replies, straightening just the slightest and smoothing out his suit jacket. “You invited me.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Sehun sees Yunji handing the cheque off to the woman behind the desk before walking off. Yunji’s been to a fair amount of these, and Sehun knows she’ll be able to find things – and people – to entertain her.

Jongin starts towards the ballroom, and Sehun falls into step with him. Snatching a glass of red wine off a passing tray, Sehun nurses the swell of the glass in one hand as he keeps his other snug in his pocket. They pause by the doors, gazing into the bustling crowd that’s made up of a healthy portion of the city’s richest and finest.

“A sight to behold, is it not?” Jongin asks, tilting the rim of his glass into the room. Sehun can only voice his agreement – it’s not often one sees so many jewels and well-polished shoes in one area.

“I’m not used to being at events by myself,” Sehun admits, taking a sip of the wine to soothe his nerves. “I’ve always been here as something for my father to show off to other people, but this time…”

“This time, you’re here as your own man, with your own company,” Jongin finishes. “I understand.”

“I should probably go and mingle for a bit,” Sehun sighs, “image and all, right?”

“I’ll join you, if that makes you feel a little less on edge?”

Sehun takes in the relaxed stance that Jongin’s in and finds himself agreeing.

 

 

 

  
Yunji shoots him a thumbs up from across the room as Sehun bids a CEO Park from The Park Company goodbye, and Sehun fights the urge to stick his tongue out at her. Before he can put together a reply, Yunji’s attention is stolen by a young woman her age – Sehun turns away and sets his empty glass down.

“Walk with me?”

Jongin’s hair sweeps down into his eyes and Sehun agrees easily. They exit the ballroom, and Jongin leads Sehun over to a second set of elevators.

“That went quite well, from what I could tell.”

“It wasn’t bad,” Sehun admits. “You being there helped; I probably would’ve fumbled a lot more sentences than I did if I were by myself.”

Jongin laughs, and the sound mingles with the ding of the elevator’s bell – it’s a rather pleasant sound. The elevator brings them to the ground floor, where Jongin turns into a small hallway flooded with warm lights.

“The one great thing about this place is that they have a garden – small, but beautiful – tucked away in an enclosure; not a lot of people know about it because they’re never here long enough to bother.”

Pushing on the handle of a glass door, Jongin steps directly onto grass and holds the door ajar for Sehun to step in behind him. Every inch of available space is covered by lush greenery, and if not for the stepping stones, Sehun’s sure his feet would be lost amongst blades of grass by now.

“Whenever I’m in this building I’ll end up here,” Jongin tells Sehun, making his way over to a decorative bench made out of wood.

“It’s very nice,” Sehun murmurs, looking around at the amount of life in the room. When he turns back to look at Jongin, the young businessman has an extremely content look across his face.

Unbuttoning his suit jacket before settling down into the space next to Jongin, Sehun leans back and stretches out his legs, feet sore from all the walking he had to do over the past hour or so.

“It gets tiring,” Jongin comments, “mentally. It’s a good idea to look for distractions.”

“Distractions?”

“A hobby, for example. A complicated drama on TV that goes on forever so you have something to look forward to when you get home at night and can’t fall asleep. A romantic interest or a not-so-romantic interest if it’s just physical company you want. Solid friendships are always a good idea, too.”

“What did you end up choosing?”

Crossing his ankles, Jongin tilts his head back and looks up at the ceiling. It’s painted to look like the sky, and Sehun thinks he can just make out sun rays blended in behind clouds.

“Tried out all possible options,” Jongin says, “and I ended up with an on-and-off relationship with my DVD player.”

Sehun couldn’t help it; he let out a snort of laughter and Jongin smacks him on the arm in retaliation.

“It’s not easy to keep a relationship of any sort going in our line of work, you know,” Jongin complains, “especially if the other person isn’t in our line of work. They just don’t get it, despite insisting that they do.”

“Yeah,” Sehun acquises, remembering how his high school sweetheart had up and left when Sehun had just started working for his father. Sehun had stood there, silent, listening as his then-boyfriend yelled at him for never making time for their relationship. Sehun had tried, really tried, but he just couldn’t make his boyfriend understand. His boyfriend had left without a glance back, and Sehun never gave chase.

A nudge to his side jostles Sehun out of his mind.

“Bad memories?”

“Somewhat.”

“I apologise,” Jongin says, “but it’s better to realise it now than later, I suppose?”

“Yeah,” Sehun says again. “Watch me grow old by myself in house that’s too big for one old man.”

Jongin laughs again, and Sehun can’t shake the sound out of his ears. He attributes it to the slight spike in his blood alcohol levels, but when Jongin presses fingertips to the inside of his wrist, Sehun knows the sudden leap in his heart is not due to a couple glasses of wine.

“Hey,” Jongin says, voice an octave or so lower. Sehun picks out vague tremors, and he doesn’t trust himself to reply vocally, lest his own voice ends up sounding the same. He looks over, and there’s something in Jongin’s eyes that he’s never seen before. It’s a mix of curiosity, interest, affection, and worry.

“I’m operating under the assumption – supported by evidence I've collected – that we’re both in need of a distraction,” Jongin continues, “so stop me if I’m wrong...”

Fingers find their way into the fine hairs at the base of Sehun’s skull, and the feeling grounds him somewhat. He tilts his head just as Jongin leans in, and Jongin easily catches Sehun’s bottom lip between his own.

There’s a fluidity to the way they move around each other, and the next thing Sehun knows, he’s off the bench, weight on his knees as he hovers over Jongin, and Jongin has both hands cupping his jaw. Jongin wears a surprisingly light amount of aftershave, Sehun notes hazily; it’s smells heavenly.

When the seriousness of the situation hits him, Sehun pulls back almost roughly and takes in a ragged breath.

“This –”

“Can be whatever you want it to be,” Jongin interrupts. “If you want things to end here; if you never want to see me again, that’s fine.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Sehun says, squeezing his eyes shut. “It’s just really...”

“Overwhelming,” Jongin supplies, and Sehun nods.

“Take your time,” Jongin says, rising to his feet. “I’m quite patient, as you’ll soon discover.”

He waits for Sehun to collect himself before gesturing to the door. “Shall we? I’m sure our secretaries are mildly worried that their baby chicks have gone missing.”

“Does yours give you that vibe, too?” Sehun blurts, and Jongin smiles.

 

 

 

  
Sehun manages to keep his professionalism intact for a good two weeks or so before he finds himself walking into Jongin’s office late into the night on a Tuesday. The receptionist apparently recognises Sehun, for he gestures towards the elevators following a bow.

The ride to the top floor passes by in a flash, and Sehun steps out to see Jongin’s secretary packing up, ready to leave for the day.

“Mr. Oh!” She exclaims, before fumbling around in her desk for her scheduler. “Forgive me if I’ve made a mistake, but –”

“Don’t worry, I’m just here to talk to Mr. Kim for a brief moment.”

“Oh, alright,” she says, visibly relaxing. “Okay; good night, sir.”

“Good night,” Sehun replies, and waits for her to walk away before approaching Jongin’s door. He knocks three times, and a familiar voice tells him to enter.

The door swings open smoothly, and Sehun steps inside, a little hesitant.

“Hey,” Jongin says, tone of voice changing the instant he recognises his visitor. Rising from his seat, Jongin gestures to a plush leather chair facing his desk, and Sehun takes the offer. “Is something up?”

“I’ve been, uh, thinking,” Sehun mumbles, hand waving vaguely about in the air, “and um –”

“Come home with me,” Jongin cuts in, and he sounds so sure of himself – and of them – that Sehun agrees instantly.

 

 

 

  
“You’ve been on my mind even before I laid eyes on you,” Jongin says as he presses Sehun down into the mattress, his grip around Sehun’s hips firm yet gentle. “I was utterly enraptured by the mere concept of an individual like you – brains, humility, drive –, and when I finally met you, you had the added bonus of being ridiculously _attractive_.”

Sehun wants to laugh incredulously – because, well, he’d never viewed himself the way Jongin’s describing him – but there are fingers working at the buttons of his dress shirts and he’s a little distracted, to say the least.

“Tell me,” Jongin continues, pushing Sehun’s now unbuttoned shirt open to either sides of a tapered waist, “who gave you permission to take my breath away?”

Sehun’s only response to that is to pull Jongin’s face down towards his and press their mouths together – Jongin seems to accept that answer, running a palm appreciatively up the curve of Sehun’s back.

“I’ll be your distraction tonight if you’ll be mine,” Sehun whispers against Jongin’s lips.

“Deal,” Jongin replies, and deftly unbuttons Sehun’s pants.

There’s a lot of fumbling and knocking of limbs as they work to get their suits off, and once bare skin is pressed up against bare skin, Sehun finds himself completely blank.

“Um –”

“Been a while?” Jongin asks lightly, reaching into the bedside drawer to pull out a nondescript bottle of lube.

“You could say so,” Sehun replies, his grip on Jongin’s wrist tightening imperceptibly.

“I can be gentle if I want to be,” Jongin says, capping the bottle and tossing it aside. Sehun swallows as Jongin’s lubed fingers disappear from his line of sight, and it’s not long before he feels the expected coolness on his entrance. “Do you want me to be?”

Sehun opens his mouth to answer, but his intended reply dies on his tongue when he looks up into Jongin’s eyes. There’s a heat in them that Sehun’s never seen before, and he _wants_.

“No. You don’t need to be gentle.”

Jongin’s lips quirk and Sehun’s just about mentally prepared himself when Jongin pushes a slick finger in. Equally slick lips work at a spot on Sehun’s neck that has him squirming from something other than discomfort, and it’s not long before Sehun’s urging Jongin to add more fingers in.

There’s dampness on the inside of his thigh, and when Sehun realises that it’s the leaking tip of Jongin’s cock, he blushes a furious red and manages to force out a, “I’m – I’m ready.”

Jongin’s fingers leave him and he immediately misses the feeling of being filled. The sight of Jongin rolling a condom onto himself with the ease of someone who’s confident of himself just makes Sehun’s anticipation spike even more.

“Grab that,” Jongin instructs, placing Sehun’s hands onto the bed frame behind his head. Sehun holds on as tightly as he can, knuckles paling when Jongin pushes in.

“Jesus,” Jongin mutters, blunt nails digging into the flesh just above the curve of Sehun’s ass. “You’re –”

“Shut up and move,” Sehun interrupts, using his grip on the bed frame to nudge Jongin a little deeper into himself.

It’s almost as if they’ve been together for years; there’s a sense of comfort and easiness in the way Jongin holds Sehun close and the way he thrusts up into him, and there aren’t any inhibitions whatsoever when Sehun moans into Jongin’s hair and uses Jongin’s stomach as a source of friction for his own arousal. It’s with a surge of need that Jongin grabs Sehun’s wrists and moves to pin them down above Sehun’s head as he moves up onto his knees. Jongin’s hair is perfectly messy and Sehun can only whimper when half of his face is covered with said hair as Jongin leans down to roll a nipple between even teeth.

Sehun climaxes unexpectedly, thighs tightening as he comes all over his torso, nails digging bright crescents into his palms. Jongin smooths a hand down the inside of Sehun’s trembling thigh as he comes down from his high, and when he feels Sehun start to relax, he increases his speed marginally. It’s enough for Sehun to choke around his own spit, however, as the friction sends tremors up his spine through sensitive nerves.

“Sit back,” Sehun gasps, asshole clenching reflexively when Jongin pulls back. As Jongin does as he’s told, Sehun nestles himself down onto Jongin’s pelvis and rocks, a hand behind himself as he cups Jongin’s balls and rubs at where they’re joined. Sweat beads on Jongin’s forehead and Sehun drops down on his cock with a little more force – Jongin’s hands clamp down on Sehun’s hips to hold him in place as he arches up and comes, and Sehun can’t help but let out a moan when he feels Jongin’s balls twitch in his hand.

“Don’t move yet,” Jongin mumbles, eyes closed and hands still warm on Sehun.

“Doubt I have the energy to do so anyway,” Sehun replies, shifting despite himself and inhaling sharply when he feels Jongin move inside him.

“You don’t fail to surprise me day after day,” Jongin says, and thumbs at Sehun’s lip.

Shrugging, Sehun lets Jongin slip his thumb into his mouth, and he gives it a gentle suck before saying, “I try.”

 

 

 

  
A few days of expectant silence passes before one of them plucks up the courage to contact the other.

"You didn't call," Sehun says, fighting to keep the accusatory tone out of his voice. It's lunch time, and they're seated on a bench in the small plaza between their buildings.

"I didn't know if you wanted me to," Jongin admits, "and I didn't know when you wanted me to, either."

Sehun raises an eyebrow, but he stays quiet as he unwraps his bagel that he had purchased from the nearby deli. Jongin's lunch stays in its bag as its owner scrutinises Sehun.

"I think we should take this slow, whatever this is," Jongin says, watching as Sehun bites down into his food.

"What do you think we are?"

"I don't know; distractions for each other?"

Sehun looks down at his bagel and feels the ghost of a noose tightening around his neck. _Of course_ Jongin views him just as a distraction; that's what started everything off in the first place. He has no reason to assume that their relationship would or could develop past this current stage, so why should he hope that it would? It's ridiculous, Sehun reasons with himself, to prioritise a (potential) personal relationship — especially one with a fellow businessman — above his career; a career which _is_ something he needs to be focusing on for the foreseeable future.

"Yeah, of course. Take it slow." Sehun takes another mouthful of his food just to keep his jaw busy, and he doesn't look Jongin's way the entire time.

"Okay then," Jongin says, words seemingly laden. "Are you free tonight?"

"Sorry," Sehun replies, standing up. "I'm not. And I've just remembered that I have a meeting to get to. Don't want to be late. I'll see you around."

With that, he strides off, tossing the rest of his lunch into a bin along the way. He's not exactly hungry anymore. Jongin looks at Sehun's retreating back and leaves his lunch behind, too.

 

 

 

  
"How did that charity event go?"

"Went fine," Sehun says, walking around his bedroom as he prepares for bed. Zitao goes silent over the line and Sehun can pretty much imagine the man's brain churning.

"Something happened," Zitao proceeds to say carefully, voice crackling a little over the speakerphone.

"So what if it did? It's not terribly important." There's no point in denying it, Zitao always manages to weasel it out of him. But he can try to get Zitao to drop it, though.

"Do you like him?"

Just like Zitao to cut to the chase, Sehun thinks, stepping into his pyjama pants.

"No," Sehun answers, more firmly than he had intended for it to be. "I don't."

"Right," is Zitao's answer, and Sehun can't blame him — he would probably doubt himself too, if he were Zitao.

"Gotta go to bed," Sehun says, "early start tomorrow."

"Tomorrow is the weekend," Zitao says casually.

"Have things to finish up in the office," Sehun replies, and fights the urge to sigh. "I'll call you soon. All the best over there."

He hangs up before Zitao has the chance to respond.

 

 

 

  
It’s surprising, Sehun thinks, to have avoided contact with Jongin as easily as he has over the past few weeks. He chalks it up to an increased workload due to the launching of a new project, but he begrudgingly admits to himself one night that keeping his phone on Do Not Disturb for the entire time he’s in the office helps fend off any unwanted calls.

A few days into Sehun’s persistent disregard of Jongin’s calls and texts, Jongin sends over a bottle of ridiculously expensive red wine with a card looped around its slim neck.

_Hey babe, want to grab a bite soon?_

Sehun had simply made a face at the horrible nickname and stashed the bottle away in his briefcase. The bottle is currently placed somewhere on a shelf of other wine bottles just like it. There haven’t been any other gifts after the bottle, and Sehun doesn’t quite know what to feel about it. But he’s managed to push most thoughts of Jongin out of his mind for a considerable period of time, and he doesn’t think he feels too bad about it…

Until the doorbell rings on a Saturday night and Sehun opens it to find Jongin standing in his hallway with another bottle of wine in his hands. Clothed in dark jeans and a crisp, white shirt, Sehun has to push any thoughts of _well he looks good enough to drink himself_ out of his mind before opening his mouth.

“What are you doing here?”

“Figured I’d come right to the source of all my unanswered calls and messages.” He holds out the bottle and Sehun hesitates for a moment before reaching out for it.

“You shouldn’t have,” Sehun says, but steps aside to let Jongin in.

“Shouldn’t have what?” Jongin asks, settling down onto an ottoman and looking up at Sehun. “Come here or bring you wine?”

“Both,” is the reply, and Jongin watches as Sehun walks over to place the bottle of wine on the shelf.

“Why’s that?”

“I’m in no need of a distraction at the moment.” The word _distraction_ comes out harder than Sehun had intended, and he fights back a wince.

“I figured that that was the problem,” Jongin sighs. Standing, he runs the palms of his hands down the sides of his jeans and takes a few steps closer to Sehun.

"What I said back then; I didn't mean it the way you seem to have taken it," Jongin says, "you're not just a —"

"Fuck toy?" Sehun crooks an eyebrow.

"You were never a fuck toy," Jongin says firmly.

Scoffing, Sehun grabs a random bottle off his shelf and strides into the kitchen, where he grabs a glass and fills it to the brim. He manages to gulp down half the glass before he turns to Jongin.

"Wine?"

"Yeah; that sounds good."

 

 

 

  
An empty bottle of Merlot perches precariously on the table — it rocks slightly when Sehun backs up against the table, fingers gripping the edge.

"Let me prove it to you," Jongin murmurs, head dipping low enough for his lips to skim Sehun's jawline.

Sehun's skin is hot to the touch, and there's a flush spreading across the horizon of his cheeks.

"How can you possibly —"

"At least let me try."

Sehun falls silent, and Jongin takes the chance to lean in and coax Sehun's lips apart. He tastes like red wine and sins wrapped up in a bow, and Jongin knows he'll never get tired of that taste on his tongue.

There are fingers working at pulling Sehun's pants off his hips the second Sehun falls onto the couch, and it's through a pleasant daze that Sehun lets Jongin tug them down. He almost doesn't feel his underwear follow.

Running his hands down smooth thighs, Jongin sinks down onto his knees and nudges Sehun's legs apart.

"You're not a toy, Sehun," Jongin says, slipping his index finger into his mouth and wetting it sufficiently before gently circling the rim of Sehun's entrance with the slick digit.

Sehun's only reply is a garbled moan, and Jongin fists Sehun's gently curved cock steadily. Dropping love bites down the insides of milky thighs, Jongin removes his finger and replaces it with his tongue, keeping his thumb thrumming over the slit as he does so.

Sehun bucks up into Jongin's fist and Jongin pushes his tongue in a little deeper; Sehun spills into Jongin's hand with a tight whimper and Jongin cleans up the mess with the hem of his shirt.

A sigh causes Jongin to look up at Sehun, and he's a little surprised when he feels shaky hands fumbling at his waistband.

"Sehun?"

"Keep proving it to me," Sehun whispers, "give me what I want."

"What do you want?" Jongin stands and glances down at the garments pooled at his ankles. Stepping out of them, he rids himself of his soiled shirt and hovers over the young businessman.

Sehun pulls Jongin closer by the wrists, and exhales deeply before leaning in to suck a hickey just below Jongin's navel.

"Take me here. Now."

"You're not —"

"God bless fucking alcohol," Sehun declares loudly, before laying back down onto the couch and hitching a leg up to his chest.

Swallowing, Jongin bends and grips onto Sehun's hips as he lines up. He presses a bruising kiss onto pliant lips when he pushes in, and Sehun drags hot lines down a muscled back in retaliation.

Everything is fast and more than a little messy; the material of the couch chafes at the skin of Sehun's back and their knees knock together uncomfortably. But Sehun comes in just a few minutes, what small amount of come there is staining his stomach, and Jongin follows soon after, pulling out in the nick of time before shuddering all over his hand and Sehun's thigh.

Jongin struggles against the urge to stroke Sehun's hair until Sehun falls asleep, but instead, he readjusts Sehun's position on the couch and makes a trip to the bathroom to fetch a damp hand towel. Sehun is fast asleep by the time Jongin finishes cleaning him up, and Jongin leaves a small lamp on before leaving, just in case Sehun likes sleeping with the lights on.

 

 

 

  
_Lunch?_

_Sure, babe. Ten minutes, downstairs?_

_Don't call me babe._

**Author's Note:**

> [Click for Links!](https://bluedveins.wixsite.com/evoxine)


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